


The Dead Poets Said So

by empress9



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Kiss, M/M, Poetry, Romance, school setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empress9/pseuds/empress9
Summary: Ignis and Gladio are studying an Old Lucian text about Ifrit's gift to Solheim's first King...Things get a little... romantic... and the two students find themselves in a moment of passion.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	The Dead Poets Said So

**Author's Note:**

> *blushes* my first attempt at romance... eek... it's pretty saucy...  
> enjoy!

-

_Oh- to bask in you, make thine heat mine… the trials of men do naught but diminish at the light of your everlasting grace….._

Ignis, being a pragmatist, found himself inexplicably lost to all reason…

Golden eyes, filled with warmth.. a smile.. a glance…

If he was falling in love it was only because the dead poets said so…

-

“Why does Lacertus not just say he’s in love with Ifrit and get it over with already?”

Hands thrashed the leather-bound book, exasperated.

Ignis admired his enthusiasm. Amongst other things.

Gladiolus, the closet scholar, or so it seemed, and the object of Ignis’s existential suffering...

“You think it is the Infernian himself that Clericus is inferring with this vision...?” Ignis took the bait.

“Oh yeah.. I’ve seen some interpretations posit that it’s an early version of the Oracle that was meant to appear in this scene, but that’s bullshit,” the man tossed his head, dark hair positioning itself in a disheveled array. “The Oracle wasn’t even established at this point in Solheim anyway.”

The two sat on a stoop, outside the school building. Books and notepads strewn about them.

They were currently pouring over Clericus epic poem, _The Vocatus_.

Ignis was...

decidedly...

_distracted_.

“That’s interesting.. then.. would you say it’s Lacertus’s fascination with Ifrit’s power that has so enraptured him?” Ignis nibbled his fingernail. A bad habit. One he wasn’t sure when he'd picked up.

“ _Enraptured_ , hah, yeah,” Gladiolus smiled. Damn him. “That’s putting it lightly. See.. this bit here..”

Testing all of Ignis’s resolution to remain concentrated, the other boy leaned closer, pulling the book into his lap, limbs pushing against Ignis’s. 

“ _You, oh specter, oh light-bearer, to dance in the glow, to make men weep. I would give all but to touch it. To feel thine god-touched glory_ … _Sheesh!_ Hot, right?”

 _Astrals_.

Ignis swallowed something, maybe his dignity, but managed “It’s quite an interesting take. I’ve never read it as romantic before..”

He’d never felt such a.. quixotic connection to classmate before either.. but-

Unfairly long legs, stretched under straight black trousers…

The top two buttons of his collared shirt undone, the rest testing their strength against the muscular torso beneath..

 _Heavens_..

Ignis’s essay partner was... 

_Sinfully_ attractive…

“Yeah it’s not commonly known as the sensual scene of _The Vocatus_ , but damn.. if this isn’t sexier than when Lacertus compares his wife to a lascivious Jormungand then, hell.. maybe I’m readin’ this thing wrong.” 

The book report they were currently working on was quickly becoming a study in… abstention.

When Ignis was assigned his partner, he was pleased. He’d known Gladiolus in passing. He was looking forward to getting to know the Prince’s future Shield a bit better… only..

 _Gods_..

Ignis never realized how good-looking he was…

He knew that man was well-built, sure… tall and muscular… but it was his face.. .soft skin.. keen, intelligent eyes.. that dark hair, under-cut at the sides… showcasing his sculpted features..

The book report was but an after-thought in Ignis’s mind.

Distractedly, he remarked “I must say, you surprise me, Amicitia. I had no idea you had such.. fondness.. for literary analysis.”

“It’s Gladio, you twit, and yeah… growing up, I loved reading, and damn.. _The Vocatus_ has always been a favorite.”

“I image you’re disappointed we were not assigned the battle section… Solheim’s first strike against the barbarians. Carnage and glory, as it were.”

“Hell no, we’ve got the best part here! Listen to this it’s just gorgeous-“

 _Yes_ , Ignis agreed.

“ _Soft is mine skin, but hard is mine heart, to bear witness to thee_ … and then the specter’s response.. _convince me, Solheim-son, for the softness and hardness of a man-heart is but to be measured by the godhand of mine own depth_ … I mean _godsdamn_.” 

Gladiolus’s voice was exquisite. The rich timbre… speaking prose such as this…

 _Intoxicating_ …

“In my youth, I had seen a performance of this scene that cast the specter as a female gift-giver.” Ignis still had the ability to speak, at least.

“Yeah, that’s shit. Other versions claim it was female, but that’s not what I’m getting here, nor from the original text...”

He swiped at his hair again, but it fell back between his brows.

Gods, he was hypnotizing…

“I’ve always read it as Lacertus declaring love, not for Ifrit’s god-power, no, but for the man-face that he’s wearing, this guise to make negotiations… see here,” He was pouring through the text again. “ _You come bearing the face of me and mine-kind_ … see? Meaning that he must be in _male_ human form, not some waifish female ghost nonsense, astrals… _I’ve not seen such visage-fair... for all of thine power, thou art far more the star-touched.._ ”

Ignis looked at his classmate.. all tanned skin… rugged… but _refined_ …

Visage-fair indeed…

The older boy was chewing a pencil, scanning the text.. writing notes in surprisingly delicate script..

Ignis was mentally tracing the man’s stock-rigid jawline with his thoughts…the softness.. the hardness…

_I would give all but to touch…_

Gladiolus looked up from his study, head slanted downward, but his eyes.. _oh gods_..

The eyes like amber-fire, tucked between long lashes…penetrating Ignis’s every last defense.

Ifrit’s fire could never be so powerful...

“So yeah.. this line here,” Gladiolus’s voice brought him back from reverie “ _I would betray mine own flaw-heart, if but to gaze upon thee, to hold thine own power unlimited… were it but the harkening of mine own cries to sway thee to such conquest…_ ” He nibbled the pencil again.

_Oh to be a stick of wood…_

_To touch lips such as thine would do naught but to snap me in half.._

Ignis was no poet…

“This word here, they’ve translated as ‘conquest’.. but in the original Old Lucian.. the word is _‘sacamare’_ and it’s more like… a giving of one’s self.. like a sacrifice of one heart to another.. its way more complex and intimate, I think..” 

“You mean to tell me you’ve read the original text? You’ve studied Old Lucian?” Ignis was speechless.

“ _Aliquid novi_ … Eh, it’s a bit of a hobby..” the man shrugged.

There was a very real possibility that Ignis would just faint on the spot.

“Hey, we should each read the parts, back and forth, y’know.. get the whole vibe of the thing?” Gladiolus, still painfully close, leaned into Ignis’s shoulder.

Ignis smelled his cologne.. deep.. spicy…

_Oh heavens.._

“Ahem..” Astrals, he was losing it. “Yes, alright, but I think you should be the Specter.”

“What? Hell no. I’m more inclined to relate to Lacertus anyway.. his duty to his people.. yearning for power and all that.. I don’t know..the way he talks about Ifrit’s gift… the power to behold it.. it’s… moving.”

_Couldn’t he see…?_

The grace he carried…his body a picture of elegance, while maintaining its virility…

Those _eyes!_

Honey-gold, brighter than any god-given flame…

The lips…

The delicate hands..

Soft.. and hard..

The dichotomy of sexuality itself…

_You’re the fire, you damn fool._

“We’ll take it from this bit then, where Lacertus has made a claim for his people.. to enlist the Infernian for his country’s sake…” Gladio established.

And so began…

“ _Oh fire spirit, I call thee, with naught but a body of flesh, to embrace the warmth of thee, and mine own honor, for country and kin live blood-born in my pulse..”_ The husky voice that nearly brought Ignis to his knees… _“Thine own fire means to brighten it, bring it life where the red-soaked trail of mine own falters_..”

Gladio was clutching the book between them, shoulder-to-shoulder with Ignis.

“ _Convince me, Solheim-son_ ,” Ignis began. He was shocked he didn’t choke. “ _For power of god-craft such as mine own is naught to be trifled._ ”

“ _Be it were there heart-oath to convince thee of mine own desperate plea.. the passion of thine hands would be the life-force of Solheim-self.. its sons but your ever-beholden servants_..”

Ignis was slipping…

Drowning in honey-tongued poetry..

“ _Convince me, Solheim-son, for Solheim-all is but a pebble for treading to mine godly pace... To what do I owe the bequeathing of god-given power?... to the man you paint before me.. or for prosperity of the Children of Eos-kind all?”_

Gladiolus breathed, so near. It sent shivers down Ignis’s spine…

He couldn’t be imagining the way the other boy was staring into his own eyes..

The way he kept biting his lip…

Ignis was tipping sideways.

He reached out a tentative hand, laid it upon Gladio’s thigh..

So warm.. 

Ignis didn’t move it.

And Gladio didn’t object… He continued in an almost whispered voice “ _I.. a man of Solheim-soil… and blood… to have felt the warmth of thee…_ “

Oh… the warmth..

Breath tickled Ignis’s neck…

“ _Were I to have felt this….. marvel… this fire of nature-not conceived… and never to warm to its sun-strength again…. would be but the baptism of mine own demise.._ “

Gladio was inching closer…

Ignis couldn’t move if he wanted to.

“ _Convince me, Solheim-son.. be you a man of character and strength.. to bear my gift would be but the ruin of thine own self… could thee carry it still_?”

“ _I feel… fire… in mine chest-bone,_ ” With that, Gladio reached for Ignis’s hand, guided it up to his open collar.

Ignis rested his fingers there.. along the collarbone.. the heat..

“… _a fire unquenchable_ …”

Gladio, still holding Ignis’s hand to his chest… breathed deeply… 

“ _Thine god-hood leaves me_ ….” another breath “… _without senses_ … ”

Heavens above…

The older boy was leaning in close.. too close to be anything but… sensual...

“ _My warrior-heart calls to enlist thee.. my man-heart… comes to feel thine warmth_ …”

Ignis couldn’t breathe.

Gladio…his mouth, warm and close.. oh so close.. “ _Mine soul shall never disremember thine grace eternal_..”

He brought up a hand, etched Ignis’s cheek and then-

“I’m sorry.. I-”

He pulled back.

“No.”

Ignis. He’d remembered how to speak.

He grabbed the older boy’s hand.. laid bare his eyes to the _raw_ gold-hued gaze…

He traced his other hand up the man’s neck… pulse… franctic…

“Don’t’ stop.” Ignis brought his voice to a whisper…..

“ _Convince me, Solheim-son_ ….”

That was all Gladio needed and-

He brought his face close…

Enough that Ignis felt the fever-heat of his passion…

He bit his lip again…

 _Oh gods_ …

Gladiolus, all warm and sensuous… He brought his hand up to the back of Ignis’s hair.. clutched it lightly… a life-line…

His rough-stubbled jaw scraped the side of Ignis’s chin…

Hot mouth skimming along the panes of his cheekbones..

He was falling…

A trembling gasp of air by his ear…

Gladio brought his flush-hot lips to the space between the earlobe and his cheek…

He moaned..

Ignis… falling deeper… he could scarcely breathe…

And then…

The lips found purchase on Ignis’s own.. and… _gods_ …

The softness….

_The hardness_ …

Ignis clung to him, pulling him closer.. closer still…

Their chests collided, bringing the twixt heartbeats to a crescendo.

Gladio was moaning into his mouth.

Ignis slipped his tongue between the treacherous lips…

He stroked his hand up the man’s hard chest.. drew it up his neck, to his buzzed hair.. grabbed on to the dark tresses… he was falling…

“Ignis.. I..” Gladio was gasping against him.

“Shhhh..” Ignis pulled him back in.

_For all of thine power, thou art far more the star-touched…_

Gladio was panting between the kisses…Ignis pushed him back into the balustrade. He would not yield..

Their hot bodies pressed into each other… alight with fire…passion..

They finally pulled apart… breathless..

Gladio was red-hot with lust.

 _My gods_ …

He was _beautiful_. 

“Ignis..” he spoke the name like a prayer.

“Gladio..I…” Ignis cleared his throat.

“…I’m inclined to think your theories on Clericus’s text are most… _compelling_.”

Gladio rasped out a laugh.

It was… _oh gods_.. so perfect.

“Damn Iggy… you should hear what I’ve got to say on Plebus’s _Corruptela_ … now that’s some saucy literature-“

Ignis shut him up with his mouth.

They fell together..

book project forgotten…

a fire kindling…

_I would give all but to touch it…_

_To feel thine god-touched glory…_

For Ignis, it was worth the distraction..

-


End file.
